New evidence possible in 1970 slaying

Thomas Kovacs (left) is the owner of a coal yard in North Whitehall. That is were he found the body of Sharon Brantweiner (photo, right) on November 27, 1970.

Thomas Kovacs (left) is the owner of a coal yard in North Whitehall. That is were he found the body of Sharon Brantweiner (photo, right) on November 27, 1970. (Emily Robson / Special to The Morning Call)

It was the day after Thanksgiving 1970, one of the busiest shopping days for Hess's department store, Woolworth's and the other shops along a vibrant Hamilton Street in Allentown.

Young women walking with friends or their parents combed the stores looking for bargains. Young men cruised The Circuit, as Hamilton Street was called, hoping to impress with their beefed-up Chevys or Fords.

Sharon Ann Brantweiner, a 19-year-old community college student, was among those on The Circuit the night of Nov. 27. She had left her 12th Street home after dinner, telling her mother that she needed a pair of boots.

About five hours later in Ironton, Brantweiner was found dead on an oil-covered road leading to a coal yard, strangled with her own stockings. She was left nude, without her attacker even hiding her body.

Hundreds were interviewed in the days and weeks following her death, including friends, classmates at what was then Lehigh County Community College, former dates, shoppers and people who cruised Hamilton Street that night.

For 37 years, what happened in a three-hour span -- from the time Brantweiner was last seen in a downtown store to the gruesome discovery of her body near the coal yard -- has been a mystery.

Now state Trooper Andrew Canepa and Lehigh County Detective Gerald Procanyn, who took over the case in May 2004, say that with new technology, DNA databases, the re-interviewing of witnesses and narrowing down of suspects, they are closer than ever to solving one of the most investigated and troubling crimes in the Lehigh Valley.

"This was a truly shocking case," Canepa said.

"This was a really good girl that came from a good family. [There was] no reason for anyone to want to hurt her."

Before heading to downtown Allentown on that Friday, Sharon Brantweiner spoke on the phone to two girlfriends and had dinner with her mother.

According to initial reports and a timeline released by authorities in December 1970:

Brantweiner didn't have a ride, so about 6:30 p.m., she walked the five blocks from her home at 636 N. 12th St. to Hamilton Street.

She was in H.L. Green's five-and-dime, between Eighth and Ninth streets on Hamilton, at 7:30 p.m. Forty-five minutes later, she was seen talking to a man on the south side of Hamilton, close to Eighth Street. Brantweiner then walked west. She was believed to have been in the area of 10th and Hamilton streets between 8:30 and 9 p.m.

Canepa can't verify that timeline. But according to his investigation, the mother of one of Brantweiner's girlfriends had greeted her inside a store about 8 p.m. He would not disclose the store.

"That was the last time that she was known to be alive," Canepa said. "At 11 p.m., the body was discovered, about 10 miles north."

Investigators are focusing on what happened after 8 p.m.

"We are looking at a three-hour window, 8 until 11," Canepa said. "The mystery is, what happened in those three hours?"

The detectives say everything is being re-examined.

Although Brantweiner's mother said her daughter walked to the downtown shopping district, the detectives are checking whether Brantweiner might have found another way to get there.

"We don't know for sure," Canepa said. "But we have no evidence that I can think of to suggest she was there with anyone."

And while Brantweiner reportedly went to Hamilton Street to buy a pair of boots, Canepa said there is no evidence that she bought those boots.

Body found

Thomas Kovacs was 25 years old when he found Brantweiner's body on a road leading up to his family's coal yard, near Mauch Chunk and Levans roads in Ironton.

"Yeah, I found her," said Kovacs, now 62. "The girl from Allentown."

He struggled to remember details from nearly four decades ago. He recalled he was driving on Levans Road with a friend. Passing his family's coal yard, he noticed tire tracks on the dirt road leading into the yard. He thought one of his two brothers might be there and drove in to take a look.

He made a turn near the Grouse Hall fishing hole, which leads to the coal yard, and noticed something light-colored on the right side of the road, which was covered in oil to keep the dust down. Instead of getting out of his car for a closer look, he pulled out and went to a nearby home to call police.

Kovacs thought he was reporting a dead deer or other animal. The next day, he learned he had found the body of Sharon Brantweiner.

"I didn't think it was a person," he said. "I felt bad."

Back then, not many people from Allentown came into "the country," a term he uses to describe Ironton and its neighboring municipalities, unless they wanted to fish, hunt or take a date to a spot where they could definitely get some privacy. "You wouldn't be bothered," he said, "if you know what I'm getting at."

During the ensuing investigation, state police interviewed Kovacs and inspected his car. About a year ago, he said, he was interviewed again by Procanyn and a "younger detective," but by then, his memory had faded.

At the time of the killing, Procanyn was a young patrolman with the Whitehall Police Department. He heard the call on a police radio and headed to Ironton. He knew the Kovacs family and wanted to lend a hand to the state troopers already there.

Police found some of Brantweiner's clothing -- coat and blouse near her body, bell-bottomed pants farther away and a shoe about a half-mile away on Mauch Chunk Road.

The next morning, Brantweiner's parents made the heartbreaking identification of their daughter's body at a hospital morgue.

Brantweiner's mother already had seen a television report about a woman being found dead. She didn't want to believe the woman could be her only child. She had been hoping her daughter had spent the night with a girlfriend.

"Every parent who had a daughter that night was worried," said retired state Trooper Charles Marshall, who was at the morgue when the Brantweiners identified their daughter. "It was an emotional scene."

Brantweiner's father, an Army veteran of World War II, died in 1985. Her mother, now 83, lives in a nursing home. Detectives have spoken to her in recent years, but her memory is fading.

Jeff Seybolt, a case worker with Lehigh County Aging and Adult Services, says Evelyn Brantweiner remembers her daughter was killed. "That will be one of the last memories that will go.

"I hope something happens," he said of the search for the killer. "You'd like to have something happen."

Canepa would like to beat the clock and make an arrest, to bring some resolution to Brantweiner's mother. "I'd like to be able to tell her that we got the guy," he said.

Time to date

Sharon Brantweiner was in her second and final year at Lehigh County Community College in Schnecksville when she was killed. She was studying to become a secretary and had been working part-time at General Acceptance Corp., a finance firm in Allentown. She played basketball at college and was signed up for the volleyball team and ski club.

At William Allen High School, she had taken the business track and was in the glee club, choir and pep club. She also participated in the spring concert as a senior and in intramural sports.

Brantweiner's biggest love, though, was the youth fellowship at her church, Salem United Church of Christ at Seventh and Chew streets. She had been working on a project to keep college-age youths involved with youth fellowships. The weekend before she was killed she attended a retreat in Hamburg with more than a dozen youths.

Brantweiner found time to date, mostly guys from college and church, but was not in a serious relationship, Canepa said. She had broken up with a steady boyfriend that summer.

All those known to have been romantically linked to her were interviewed.

Canepa said Brantweiner wasn't the kind of person who would get into the car with just anyone. It's possible she was forced into a car, he said, and driven to the coal yard, which takes at least 15 minutes by car by going north on 15th Street until it becomes Mauch Chunk Road.

Putting puzzle together

Early in the investigation, two dozen state troopers were assigned to the case. Friends who attended her viewing and others known to be on Hamilton Street were asked to come into the Bethlehem barracks to fill out a questionnaire.

Marshall, then the lead investigator, said the case hit roadblocks because of limited evidence-processing techniques. "DNA was just three letters in the alphabet to me," he said.

The state police crime lab in Harrisburg was used to analyze evidence such as fibers, blood and hair samples, and when needed, Marshall turned to the more-advanced crime labs of the FBI.

He said any killing of a young woman was considered to be a possible connection, later, he even gave thought to notorious serial killer Ted Bundy. "A lot of time was used ruling people out as suspects instead of ruling them in," Marshall said.

Among those investigated was Peter M. Lingelbach, who was convicted of strangling his wife with her stockings in 1972 in their Schnecksville home. Lingelbach was a guidance counselor at Lehigh County Community College when Brantweiner attended. Lingelbach died in prison.

Investigators also thought it might be related to the 1975 murder of Lisa Marie Bendekovitz, who was strangled with a pair of pantyhose and dumped in Whitehall. Procanyn ruled it out when he made an arrest in that case.

Publicity also caused some seeking notoriety to falsely confess to killing Brantweiner, something Canepa worries might happen if more details of the case are released.

The detectives have amassed several packed binders on the case, including crime scene photos, witness statements and police reports. Besides re-interviewing many of the same people police talked to in the 1970s, the detectives have interviewed many others, including a bus driver who was driving on Hamilton Street the last night Brantweiner was there. Several of the riders were located and also interviewed.

Working such an old case requires patience and passion, the detectives said.

"It's like putting a puzzle together," Procanyn said. "If you force it, you won't get anywhere."

And in a cold case, he said, you can never interview a witness too many times. "We've talked to people who have said, "This happened so long ago, I'm not going to remember anything,"' Procanyn said. "Then they'll start talking to you and telling you stuff. Before you know it, you have six little pieces that will fall in."

The detectives did not disclose any new developments because the investigation is ongoing and no arrests have been made. They hope to reveal more from their investigative files -- after an arrest is made and the case makes its way to a courtroom.

By the time Marshall retired in 1991, he had a 400-page case report, which he still leafs through in his Bethlehem home. He is still frustrated at not being able to solve the crime, but hopes his investigative work will benefit Canepa and Procanyn.

"The day after Thanksgiving is a big sore spot for me," he said.

Digging for clues

Kovacs said he never kept up with the Brantweiner case. He still delivers coal for J.C. Kovacs Inc., but also makes deliveries of slate, sand and other materials to help make ends meet.

On a recent Saturday, between deliveries for the coal yard, Kovacs walked to the spot where he found Brantweiner's body. A chalk outline once indicated to investigators where her body lay on the cold, oily ground.

Then, as if he expected to find something, he grabbed a shovel from the bed of his truck and started digging.

COLD CASES: Sharon Ann Brantweiner

 THE FACTS: Brantweiner was among those on The Circuit the night of Nov. 27. She had left her 12th Street home after dinner, telling her mother that she needed a pair of boots. About five hours later in Ironton, she was found dead on an oil-covered road leading to a coal yard, strangled with her...